Listening to my Pain.

“Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.”
― J.K. RowlingHarry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

I have been holding this part of my story closed up tight.  I haven't shared very much of it for many reasons.  I have been afraid to share, afraid to feel, afraid to face it and accept it and move forward from it.  

Because of my experience with adoption and the connections that I have made with so many amazing women that are unable to give birth to children of their own I have always felt a great amount of guilt when wanting to share this part of me, so much in fact that I have ignored the promptings to share it on more than one occasion.  I never felt that it was ok for me to feel this way when so many have struggled for so long.  

I realized that this is my story, this pain is real, it has been telling me something and I can't ignore the promptings any more.  Like I have said before, there is not harder there is just hard...and this is my hard right now.  It is time to listen to the pain, and clean out the wound.

3 months after my husband and I were married I was diagnosed with Cervical Cancer.  It was a very scary time for us and we were strongly advised to wait on having any children until we could get a clean scan after my first surgery.  Again, I never share much about this because I always felt that my "cancer story" was so minimal compared to so many...BUT again it was very real and very hard for us.  It was scary and consumed our thoughts.  More than once I have sat my husband down to have the "if anything happens to me" speech as I begged for him to listen to me about bank accounts and passwords and payments. 

I will never get used to seeing my husband cry, especially when we are talking about my death.

We found out we were pregnant just a month later.  

After we survived a very scary pregnancy with our sweet little Tweedle, another surgery took place.  Again we were advised not to get pregnant until we had clean scans.  

My body was telling me things.  Telling me that I was physically  broken.  My  pain was telling me that the weakness was trying to work its way out.  When I was feeling these warnings I knew that I needed to pay attention to them.  I knew that I needed to get the wounds cleaned up.  

After another surgery we were told not to have any more children until my scans were clean.

A month later we were pregnant.  Miracle baby #2. 

We knew we were done, we knew that my body was done.  After surviving another terrifying pregnancy and delivery with our Ollie, another few conversations about account information and places of eternal rest we knew that we were done.  We scheduled another surgery for 5 weeks after he was born.  

During that time I was in so much physical pain that we had the surgery and moved forward.  I healed.  I have had clean scans.  I am raising two miracle babies.  

I am grieving greatly.  I am grieving that there will be no more children.  I have great guilt that I feel this way.  I know how blessed I am.  I know how amazing it is to have given birth to the three children that I have.  I know how amazing my little family is.  I am grieving greatly for all of it.  

This past week I have had great physical pain, pain related to my struggles with my broken body.  Pain that can't be ignored.  So we start the steps, get healed, get the tests and go from there.  

I started thinking a lot about pain.  What pain is telling me, telling me that something is not working properly, telling me that something needs to be addressed immediately.  

Why is it with emotional pain do we choose to ignore it, stuff it down, wrap it up and forget about it until it becomes infected and sore, and harder to get to and have allowed it to cause great destruction in the host, in us? 

I have been in great physical pain over this past week.  But for the past several months, if I am being honest it has been more like 8 or 9 months, I have been in great emotional pain.  

My pain was telling me something.  My pain has been telling me that I have been betrayed, hurt, judged, made out to be a bitch, misunderstood, talked about, disrespected, shunned, pushed out, forgotten, taken advantage of, and so much more.  Some by people that claimed to love and care about me, some by those that have never taken two seconds to get to know me.  My pain was telling me that something was wrong, my pain was telling me that something wasn't working properly.  And like the physical pain that is ignored the emotional pain becomes chronic, it becomes crippling, it becomes consuming.  Maybe a little masochistic.  

It is time to BLEED IT OUT.

I can't ignore the pain any longer.  

As I slowly unwrap the wounds, as I finally take the time to acknowledge the pain, clean out the wounds, show them some tender loving care, play doctor to myself I am feeling relief.  I am allowing myself to recognize what has been happening, the power that I have given others, the pain that was caused that I refused to attend to.  

If I were to cut off my finger I would not ignore it and hope and pray that it would fix itself, that it would just go away.  

Why would I do that to the emotional cuts.  I am bleeding out and I am not even paying attention.  

No more.  No more ignoring the pain.  No more pretending that it doesn't matter, no more pretending that I AM FINE when I am not.  

My pain is telling me something.  My pain is telling me that something is not working properly.  It is telling me that relationships have to change, that I have to let go of a few things, that I have to put on my BTG panties and stand for my truth.  I am not for everyone and that is ok.  

The pain is lifting, the medication is kicking in, the wound is breathing and is thankful for the acknowledgement.  It has been shouting at me for months. 

I am doing right by myself, physically and emotionally.  It is time to clean the wounds.

I am learning to manage the pain before it can manage me.  I am learning to say "you should see the other guy".  I am learning to listen to the pain, to locate the damage and to attend to it immediately.  I am letting go, the wounds are breathing, and they feel better, they feel like they are healing...from the inside-out.

Pain.  It is always telling me something.  The question is, am I listening or am I going to just bleed out?